


Pull the Lever, Yuuri

by surreal_eyes



Series: Detroit Shenanigans [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Fun, Gen, Humor, One Shot, Pranks and Practical Jokes, nobody talks bad about Victor, teen for minor language, yuuri is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surreal_eyes/pseuds/surreal_eyes
Summary: Victor's costume is not too girly, thank you very much, and Yuuri will prove it.
Series: Detroit Shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026247
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80





	Pull the Lever, Yuuri

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how plumbing works. I am not a plumber. It works in theory. I think?

“Wrench.”

“Yessir!”

“Valve.”

“Yessir!”

Phichit peers at the pipes in front of his roommate. “You do know what you’re doing, right?” He has to ask as Yuuri pauses and seems to waver between two pipes. He’d chipped off a tile to get to them. Phichit really really hopes there’s no security cameras in the shower area. He also really really hopes Yuuri turned off the water correctly, or this entire mission will be a bust. A very wet, very cold bust.

“Uh. Onsen? Grew up around pipes?” Yuuri scoffs and picks the right pipe. He fits the wrench over the nut. Then he hesitates and moves to the left. “Shit.” He sits back and studies both, looking like they’ve betrayed him horribly.

“Okay but why are we doing this again?” Phichit, who is not a plumber or an onsen worker, ignores the pipes and focuses on picking the remnants of black nail polish off his fingertips. It was his night for dishes last night. He’ll have to re-do his nails tonight. Stupid soap water.

“JJ made fun of Victor.”

“Ah, yes. Right.” Phichit nods sagely. Really, anyone training with Celestino should know not to mess with Yuuri’s precious Victor. JJ has it coming.

Yuuri snorts. “His costume this season was _not_ too girly. JJ’s full of crap.” He finally picks a pipe and twists the wrench around it until it pops off. He does the same on the other pipe (and Phichit wonders, why was he so confused by them before, then?). Water bubbles out weakly, but doesn’t spray across the room, which Phichit considers a win. Once the nuts are off, Yuuri fits in to place a little weird valve thingy that he swears will do what he needs it to do.

“Mmhm.” Phichit agrees as he picks at a particularly stubborn bit of polish. “I liked it. It was flowy.”

“It was gorgeous.” Yuuri insists. “And his footwork this year was just as gorgeous. The entry into the quad flip was one of the most difficult he’s ever done.” He snorts again. “Girly. Bullshit. JJ’s just jealous he’ll never be that good OR look that good in hot pink spandex. String.”

“Yessir!” Phichit pauses to hand over the twisted-up ball of twine faithfully. “Gotta admit, that pink was a _choice_ though.” Yuuri bites his lip and carefully twists it around the valve. He knots it, tugs, and watches the valve flip. Satisfied it will work, he flips it back into place, then lets the entire ball fall. It unravels down in the gap between the tile and 2-by-4’s.

There’s drywall on the other side. There’s already a hole cut. Yuuri assures Phichit he knows how to patch drywall, too. Phichit thinks he’d better, because he’d never even known drywall was… like… a thing, let alone how to fix it.

“Okay. I think that does it. When’s his practice over?”

“Uh…” Phichit glances up at the clock. “Ten minutes or so? Depending on Ciao Ciao.”

Yuuri gets the most shit-eating grin on his face and rings the area he’d been working in with superglue. Then he carefully lays the missing tile back in place and presses for good measure. Then, still grinning gleefully, he skitters over to the utility closet and turns the water back on.

“Perfect.” He whispers, almost predatory. Phichit blinks at him, re-evaluating everything he thinks he knows about Katsuki Yuuri.

They gather up the tools, super glue, and try to brush tile dust away. Then they slink out of the locker room and around to the other side of the wall. They pass JJ on the way, who is on the phone with his girlfriend, waxing poetic about how amazing his practice was. Phichit has to clamp a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggles.

Yuuri settles cross-legged on the floor with his gym bag and fishes out a crochet hook, of all things. Phichit drops down next to him with a raised brow.

“Shut up. I get anxious, doing something with my hands helps.” Yuuri mutters as Phichit smothers a laugh. He pushes the crochet hook through the hole in the wall and hooks it on the mess of string. Slowly, he pulls it through, and bam, they have string in their hands.

“Now we wait.”

“Are you suuuurrreeeee I can’t livefeed this?”

“No, Phichit!”

JJ takes an agonizingly long time to get in the shower, but eventually they can hear the water turn on. Yuuri’s practically vibrating with energy, passing the string from hand to hand. He waits about four minutes, until JJ starts singing (and ugh, why?), then tugs roughly on the string.

The valve in the wall flips, shutting off the hot water and letting the pipe fill with cold. It’s Detroit, in winter – it’s _very_ cold. On the other side of the wall, there’s a sudden thud, followed by a high pitched squeal that echos throughout the locker room.

Yuuri closes his eyes like it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. Phichit looks on in envy. Maybe one day he’ll have a nemesis like this. He can’t wait to feel the sweet pleasure of a prank gone right. There’s nobody better to teach him than one Katsuki Yuuri, who is currently stuffing the end of the string back in the wall and dragging a trash can to cover the small hole until he can sneak back in and patch it up.

He dusts his hands off once it’s hidden well enough and hefts his bag over one shoulder. The wrench in it clinks against his skates.

“Pizza?” He offers, and Phichit’s quick to agree.

The next day, there’s a flyer on the bulletin board stating that messing with the rink’s facilities can get you kicked out of the skating program. Yuuri pauses to read it, shrugs, and goes about his day with a look of pure innocence that Phichit envies and later on will try to replicate in a mirror.


End file.
